Fan Fest
by plaidchameleon
Summary: An AU story about Felicity Smoak going to a baseball game and Fan Fest with her friend, Sara Lance. When they go, Felicity has an opportunity to meet the star player, Oliver Queen. This is for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon with the prompt Eye Contact.


**A/N: This is for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon for the prompt Eye Contact.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to DC Comics and Arrow.**

 **Fan Fest**

It was his eyes that stopped her in her tracks. Blue shimmering orbs that could reach down into her soul. They seemed to stare into the deepest parts of her, eliciting a shiver of recognition from someone she'd never seen before. His face was sharply handsome, in that brooding sort of way, but those eyes. They plunged her into a myriad of emotions that she couldn't even beginning to comprehend because they contrasted so broadly from his face.

"Cute, isn't he?" Sara asked with a smirk on her face.

Felicity broke eye contact with the man on the poster and turned toward her friend. "Who is he?"

"Oliver Queen."

Felicity sputtered. "That's your friend slash ex slash sister's ex?"

Sara nodded with excitement. "Yep. The same guy who got us these great tickets." Sara waved the tickets under Felicity's nose. "And the VIP ones to Fan Fest after the game."

With a glance back up at the life-size, she assumed, poster, Felicity shook her head. The first guy to capture her interest after the death of her ex and it had to be a guy who was not only unattainable because he was a professional baseball player but because he had a complicated history with her one friend in Starling City.

"C'mon. Let's go grab some food and find our seats," Sara said pulling Felicity forward through the crowd that was only getting thicker as game time approached.

By the time the two women found their seats, their arms were laden with a feast of food. Popcorn, hot dogs, drinks and nachos filled their hands making them have to create a perfect dance around people while keeping balance of all they held.

Felicity glanced around amazed by how many women wore green shirts despite the fact that the Starling City Rockets colors were red, blue and white. And it wasn't because of the other team either because the Monument Point Presidents had the same color scheme as the Rockets. Felicity glanced down at her own pale green shirt that she had thrown on before Sara stopped by and told her they were heading to a baseball game, without even asking Felicity if she had other plans, and found some relief that she wouldn't stand out.

"Here we are." Sara urged Felicity to sit first before she took her own seat next to her on her right. "Can't get much better seats unless you sit behind home base."

Felicity scanned the field in front of her. Both teams were taking turns warming up. The Presidents were exited the field as the Rockets came out. The men took the field and one presence in particular captured Felicity's interest. It didn't matter that his back was to her. Felicity's eyes were constantly drawn back to him. Right now he was throwing a ball back and forth between a man of Hispanic origins and a large black male.

Nudging Sara, Felicity nodded toward the trio. "Who are they?"

Sara laughed. "I'm going to make a baseball fan out of you yet." She pointed to the larger

man in the number three jersey. "That's John Diggle. He's the Rockets starting pitcher." She nodded at the other guy. "Number eighteen is Rene Ramirez. He plays third base." Sara popped a nacho in her mouth and chewed, leaving Felicity to wonder who the third man was. The one who had made her ask in the first place. "And the guy who you can't take your eyes off his ass," Felicity spit out the soda she had just taken a sip of, "is Oliver Queen. Number twenty. First baseman extraordinaire."

The guy in front of Felicity turned and glared at her and Felicity let loose a string of apologies for spitting on him. It wasn't her fault that Sara had a knack for saying the most unexpected things whenever Felicity had only just taken a sip of something.

"For your information," Felicity whispered to her friend when the man finally turned around, "I was not staring at his butt."

"Then you'd be the only one," Sara said still laughing. "It's a damn fine ass. And in those white pants…Yum."

Felicity covered her face in embarrassment. You'd think she'd be used to Sara by now. They'd been friends since Felicity met her at the Comicon Starling City held yearly. It was the first thing Felicity did upon moving. It made her feel a little less alone doing something she would've done with her friends from Vegas. It was as Felicity waited in line for a photo op for Lynda Carter, the original Wonder Woman, that Sara first introduced herself. It was hard to believe that was over a year ago now.

"Okay. They are setting up. Game is about to begin." Sara nudged Felicity to look up.

Felicity followed the players' movements trying her best not to look in Oliver Queen's direction. It was pretty hard considering he had taken his place practically only a couple yards from where they sat.

"He's the searching the crowd," Sara told her nodding toward Oliver, a look of pure excitement on her face. She was practically bouncing in her seat.

"What for?" Felicity asked in confusion as her eyes turned on the man she had been avoiding.

That's when his eyes hit hers. If it was possible it seemed like the space between them shrunk. His eyes drilled into hers as a small smile crept up on his lips. Oliver pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair before replacing it on his head with a nod in her direction. Felicity only remembered to breathe when he broke eye contact and put his glove on.

"The Green Arrow strikes again," Sara said in awe. She elbowed Felicity and nodded toward the big screens that were strategically placed around the stadium.

Even more confused, Felicity glanced up and saw her image along with Oliver Queen's. They were staring at each other with the caption 'The Green Arrow Always Finds His Target' underneath. "The Green Arrow?"

Sara let loose a laugh that had her bending over in glee. When she finally regained some breath to speak she explained, "That's his nickname. He's had it for years. Oliver always finds a woman in the crowd wearing green and acknowledges her before a game. It's like he's dedicating it to her." Sara took a deep breath and pointed up at the screens again, which still held their likeness. "But that… That was eye sex. I've never seen him do that before. Wow."

Felicity glanced down at the pale green t-shirt she wore. "Is that why you told me I couldn't put on the Rockets t-shirt they handed out at the front gate?"  
Sara only shrugged and picked up her drink. "Honestly, that shirt would've swamped you, but yeah." Sara's eyes twinkled as she sipped her soda. "That was so hot."

"Shut up."

Sara put her drink down and held up her hands defensively. "Hey, you were the one who participated in the public sex, not me. Though, if I was invited I wouldn't have said no."

Felicity slunk down in her seat embarrassed. The whole stadium saw what had happened and that wasn't to say that it hadn't been televised. There was no hiding from her very public humiliation.

"C'mon," Sara encouraged. "It's not that bad. You're going to miss the whole game."

It was an inning later and Felicity still had the image of her and Oliver Queen replaying in her head on a constant run. It definitely was that bad.

"Look," Sara pointed out. "Every woman here wore green with the hope that they'd be the one to get that kind of reaction." Sara tugged Felicity up. "At least sit up. You'll never see the game that way. Plus, it could've been worse."

"How? You know, don't answer that."

"Too bad." Sara winked at her. "Anyway, I didn't see it but last year when Oliver was on a losing streak with the Toronto Blue Jays… That's who he played for the last five years, in case you didn't know. Anyway, he called a woman over to the side and laid a kiss on her. Full on television coverage of the whole thing. I've been meaning to watch it on YouTube. But after that the Blue Jays made a comeback in the game that everyone was sure that they were going to lose and it allowed them to make the playoffs."

"It's a good think the Rockets have a winning record so far," Felicity mumbled more to herself than Sara.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

"You okay, man?" Diggle asked Oliver half an inning later.

"Yeah. Fine." Oliver scuffed his cleats against the hard ground of the dugout. He nodded toward the plate. "You think Holt will make a hit today?"

Diggle shrugged. "Last few games he's been having trouble. Think it stems from his divorce. It's messing with his head."

Oliver nodded. He understood that. When he had broken up with Laurel all those years ago, Oliver was pretty sure that no one would ever pick him up because his batting scores tanked. "Too bad you can't get benched for heart injuries."

"So, what's really going on?" Diggle turned toward him straddling the bench they both sat on. "Because we could discuss the whole team's stats and we'd still wouldn't even come close to where your head is at."

"Remember me telling you about the Lance sisters?"

"Yeah. The one reason you didn't really want to accept the Rockets' generous offer despite the fact that you could actually play on home field for the team you grew up wanting to play for." Diggle studied him. It was like Diggle was pulling the truth from him with nothing more than his mind. "You saw them."

"I saw _one_ of them." Oliver ducked his head swiping his ball cap from it and hitting it against his pants. "I gave her tickets to the game."

"Well, that was a dumbass move. Or have you forgotten we're playing your major rival, Adrian Chase?" Diggle jumped up from the bench and crossed his arms as he stared down at Oliver. "He already messes up your head enough as it is. Why would you do something like that?"  
Oliver raised his head to look at his closest friend. "She asked me."

"Shit, man." Diggle turned and slapped at the cage of the dugout.

"That's not the problem, Digg."

"There's more?" Digg's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

"The girl. The one that made the Jumbo Tron…" Oliver gulped hard and rose. If Diggle hit him, Oliver at least wanted to be standing. "She's Sara's friend."

Diggle's face became incredulous as he grasped Oliver hard by the jersey. "You eye fucked your ex's friend? Because that's exactly what you did on live television. While you're playing Chase? Damn, man. You have a death wish." Diggle pushed Oliver away disgusted.

"Queen. You're up," the coach called out.

Oliver nodded and slammed his hat at Diggle's chest. "Hold that."

He had to shake all of this off. Diggle's words. Sara's presence. And the blonde in the pale green shirt. Chase was out there and he'd be gunning for him. Grabbing a helmet and a bat, Oliver went and took a few practice swings while Rene batted.

Oliver tried not to zone in on the section next to first base. It didn't work. As he walked up to home base after Ramirez hit a double, Oliver glanced toward where the blonde sat. She was there popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth when their eyes met for a second time.

What was it about this woman that could make him lose focus? Whatever it was, he'd have to do his best to ignore it. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn't search her out again for the rest of the game.

Turning, Oliver faced the pitcher. Adrian Chase. Oliver's nemesis on and off the field. They'd been friends once upon a time. Back when they had both been on the same team in the minors. Teammates. They had been touted as the best pitcher and first baseman combinations to hit baseball in years. Then, the first year when they had been drafted together by the Blue Jays, Oliver made a mistake. One that cost Chase more than him. Oliver had gotten drunk at a team party and slept with Chase's girlfriend. The one who had been with him since high school.

It started as nasty words thrown in Oliver's direction. Then it intensified to fights, on and off the field. Slowly, it escalated. It caused the Blue Jays to release Chase before their second season together because he had been damaging the team's brand while going after Oliver in retaliation. It was only this past year that Chase had been signed by a team again.

Chase sent a fast ball flying past Oliver's head. He had to jump out of the way to avoid being hit. Narrowing his eyes, Oliver stared down Chase.

The second ball flew by Oliver's hip as he tried striking the curve ball. The third pitch had Oliver sending the ball into the foul zone. The fourth pitch Oliver managed to hit. Fly ball into left field. The outfielder bobbled the catch and Oliver made it to first base while Ramirez and Harper, who had been sitting on third, made it home.

That made the score three to one. Something that Chase didn't seem happy about as he glared in Oliver's direction. Considering the blatant hate that was thrown his way, Oliver deduced that stealing second wasn't in his cards.

When Chase's attention was diverted to the next batter, Oliver took a deep breath. And he looked up at the stands. The fans expected him to keep his head together and he had an obligation to do his best for the city that had raised him.

"Who's the new chickee?" Slade Wilson, the first baseman for the Presidents, asked.

"They're called canaries," Oliver corrected him as he bent at the waist ready to run. He didn't even know why he bothered to answer Slade.

"Why canaries?"

Oliver shrugged. He didn't have an actual answer to that question. No matter how many people asked. It was something that followed him from the minors. It had been the name a reporter dubbed Sara and Laurel Lance when they had showed up at a game. It was the same night Oliver had been nicknamed the Green Arrow. Laurel and Sara had shown up at the game wearing matching green shirts that night. And since he had given them both attention during the game and his team had won, it began a tradition. One his team had encouraged because, let's face it anyone who played sports had some sort of superstition. So, it stuck and from then on the women he focused on were the Green Arrow's Canaries.

"She doesn't look like your type," Wilson noted after Malone struck out. "Too smart. But then maybe it's just the glasses."

And that was when Oliver broke his vow and glanced back up at the woman by Sara's side. He took a mental picture so he could analyze her when he wasn't in the middle of a field waiting on a play.

Diggle hit a line drive and Oliver took off running, sliding into second right before Chase's glove slapped him in the head. When Oliver rose, he faced off with Chase. Both men's spines straight as they postured, causing the umpire to intervene.

"It's a long game, Queen. Give up now."

"You're right it is," Oliver shot back at him. "Now throw the ball or get out of my face."

Chase only smiled and wagged a finger in Oliver's direction before he walked back over to the pitcher's mound. Oliver gritted his teeth. He watched Chase point at the blonde and kiss the ball before he wound up for the next pitch. The man had something up his sleeve and Oliver didn't like it one bit. Oliver could only hope that Sara's friend didn't end up in the man's crosshairs for all the wrong reasons.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

By the seventh inning stretch, Oliver was ready to get the game over with. The Rockets were still up by two but now the box score read five to three. What really frustrated Oliver the most was the fact that even when the game was over his day still wasn't. There was a four hour Fan Fest to allow the people of Starling City to meet the new lineup of players for the season. It happened every year after the second round of home games.

Glancing up into the stands, Oliver saw the woman he sought now covered by Sara's baseball cap. It hung low over her face but it didn't matter. He had already memorized her features.

She was about Sara's height. He noticed that when the crowd stood and she was hidden by the men in front of the pair. She wore a pair of dark colored glasses which she had a tendency to push further up her nose when she was flustered or embarrassed or shy. Her hair was pulled back from her petite facial features by a ponytail that waved in the breeze that pushed through the stadium. He hadn't seen her with a beer so either she didn't drink or was the designated driver. Or she was underage, but Oliver didn't want to even begin to consider that possibility. And she wasn't far from his thoughts no matter how much he tried to push her away.

"Wake up, Queen," the coach yelled out as the ball whizzed past him.

He did. Oliver caught the ball from the outfielder and knocked Diggle's younger brother, Andy, out before he reached first base. One out. Two to go. But Chase was up to bat. Oliver noticed Diggle nod in his direction. It was a sign to be prepared. If Oliver didn't know better he'd think Diggle planned to walk him.

Oliver hated when he was right. It didn't take too long before Chase joined Oliver at first base.

"Hi, Oliver. How's the blonde? She miss me?"

 _What was with everyone_? Seriously, it wasn't like Oliver never acknowledged another woman before. "Don't know. I'm playing baseball." Grimacing, Oliver punched his glove wishing that it could've been Adrian's face.

Chase only grinned. "Fine. You play ball and after the game, I'll get the girl."

"Leave her alone," Oliver ground out at him. "She's not involved in any of this."

"That almost sounded possessive," Chase teased him mercilessly. "Could that mean for once the girl might actually mean something to you?" Chase peeked up at the stands. "We'll see about that."

"Shut up and run," Oliver spit out at him as Wilson's bat cracked the ball into deep center field.

"How's the girl with glasses?" Wilson asked as he passed Oliver on his way to second.

Okay. Now Oliver was hot. He made a motion to Diggle. They needed a double play and they needed one now. And Oliver knew exactly who he wanted to see their ass handed to them. Digg nodded his understanding and glanced over his shoulders at the two opposing team members who crowded the bags.

It was with that straight line thinking that the Rockets won the game. Oliver threw his glove and hat into his locker and fell back on the bench in the locker room, hanging his head. The coach was about to give his post-game overview and Oliver couldn't care any less about one word the man had to say. What Oliver wanted was a cold shower to clear his head.

His phone chimed and Diggle who was standing at the next locker tossed it down to him. Catching it with the quick reflexes he was known for, Oliver unlocked his phone. There were ten text messages. Which was about five more than he usually got during a game.

Four were from jersey chasers that he had met on the road and he quickly deleted every one of them wondering why he ever gave them his number to begin with. One was from his mom who wished him good luck on his game. And the last five were from the same number. Sara Lance. That included the last one. Oliver went through them in the order they came in.

The first one read… _That was so…_ There were three emojis of fire following her words.

The second had him groaning because mentally he had. _Take a picture. It lasts longer, Ollie._

The third text only contained a picture. It was of Sara's blonde friend crouched down in her seat with a bag of popcorn tucked between her jean clad legs. Her hand was to her face as if trying to block it from whoever would be looking at her. It was frankly adorable and Oliver quickly saved it.

The fourth read… _Congratulations!_

But it was the fifth one that made him stop and read it over and over again _. I convinced Felicity to buy a replica of your jersey._

There was a picture attached of her friend Felicity. Oliver repeated her name over and over in his head. It was a beautiful name and it fit her. Shaking himself out of it, he stared down at the picture. Her back was to the camera showing off the jersey. Her hands were over her shoulders with her thumbs pointing down to highlight his name and number. Her ponytail hanging out the back of Sara's Rockets cap. Oliver had never seen a woman so smoking hot in his shirt before and he'd seen some really beautiful women in nothing but his game jersey.

"Hey, man." Diggle nudged Oliver. "Coach is talking."

Oliver closed the phone and snapped his attention back to the man who controlled his game life. He'd have enough time in the shower to remember the picture that was now burned into his brain.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

"Wasn't my on-screen embarrassment enough?" Felicity whined to Sara as they proceeded down the stadium stairs. "I don't know if I can face him in a more one-on-one setting. There'll still be a lot of people there."

Sara's gazed flicked down to the shirt Felicity now wore and a smile lit up her face. "Didn't stop you from buying his shirt."

Felicity blushed and tried to rationalize her purchase more to herself than Sara. Though if Sara believed it maybe Felicity could too. "He was MVP of the game after that hit that brought two runners in and that catch and throw that let them get those two outs in the ninth inning, helping them win the game. It seemed like a fitting reminder of the game."

"Um-hm." Sara's smile grew wider. "C'mon. I'm sure that they're still setting up so let's hit the ladies room. The lines for autographs can get ridiculous."

"Worse than Comicon?"

Sara spun in a small circle as she waved around at the still packed stadium. "Yes. And sport nuts aren't as forgiving."

They made their way over to the bathrooms and found out there was a line. The pair in front of Felicity and Sara snickered when they saw Felicity's new shirt.

"Got a problem?" Sara asked them in her no-nonsense tone that she used when she was evicting a drunk out of the bar she worked at while going to med school.

The taller of the two woman raised her nose. "Seems like some women try too hard."  
Sara turned to Felicity and shook her head. "Ignore them. They're jealous you had Ollie's attention." Sara voice turned louder and Felicity guessed it was so that the two could hear her. "Some people follow trends just to snag a person's attention while others are actual fans of the game."

"Ollie. You hear that Michelle?" the statuesque black woman said to the other woman who had spoken first. "She acts like she knows him."  
"I fucked him," Sara spit out at her. "Which is more than you can say. You're nothing more than jersey jockey bitches." Sara leaned into Felicity and whispered, "Jersey chasers are the worst."

The two women marched off with twin faces of shock when some stalls opened up. Felicity didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry from embarrassment. She settled on laughing while a blush crept over her cheeks. "You're so bad."

"They had it coming to them." Sara nodded to an open stall. "You go first."

By the time they were finished and made their way over to where fans were going to be admitted into Fan Fest there was a huge line of people waiting. Sara jockeyed around them, pulling Felicity along with her, until she reached a security guard manning the front gate.

"Hi. I'm Detective Lance's daughter. We have VIP passes." Sara held up their laminated passes that were hanging from their necks by a lanyard. "Can we go in a little early? Oliver Queen will vouch for us."  
The guard glared down at them. Felicity was pretty sure that a lot of woman tried to use Oliver's name to get into places. And when the intimidating security officer leaned over them to take a closer look at their credentials, Felicity gulped imagining that they would be bodily removed from the stadium. Instead the guard nodded and told them to stay put.

He went over to another guard and they spoke in hushed tones which was silly seeing as the noise level was so high that Felicity was developing a headache. Finally, after about five minutes, the guard returned and nodded to them. He removed the barrier and waved them forward. "Follow Mr. Jones."

Felicity assumed the other tall, hulking brute was Mr. Jones. She and Sara walked over and he led them down to the field where people were still running around arranging tables.

Most of the players were already there. Freshly showered and in clean shirts that were replicas of their jerseys, or maybe just another jersey. Felicity wasn't sure. But they were much more casual in their jeans and sneakers than their full on uniforms.

Someone motioned to some of the players and began to assign them seats at various tables. A really large one had most of the major superstars all lined up, but one seat remained open. That's when Felicity noticed that Oliver Queen was still missing. "Where's Oliver?"

"Doing a radio show," Mr. Jones spoke up for the first time. "He'll be down in a couple of minutes."

"Oh."

"Don't want to meet him, huh?" Sara teased as she linked her arm into Felicity's.

"No. I was actually relieved. I was thinking I could avoid any other embarrassment for the rest of the day." The words had no sooner left her mouth when the small hairs on the back of Felicity's head raised up. Her skin prickled with a hyperawareness she had never felt before. No one needed to tell her that Oliver Queen had arrived. She could feel him. Could feel his eyes as they swept over her and she hadn't even turned around to acknowledge he was there yet.

"Nice shirt." The words poured over Felicity from behind like warm honey.

Releasing Sara's arm, Felicity closed her eyes before she turned. She counted to three before she opened them again. It was like his poster all over again as she became trapped under the weight of his stare. There was a story in those eyes and Felicity felt like he was opening the cover for her to peek inside. It was intimidating and exciting. Her mind tried to focus on something to say but she was locked into place by the look in his eyes that demanded her complete attention. Not that she could've formed a word with him there only a stride away from her.

Felicity's breath left her in a whoosh as he closed the gap and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "If you asked, I would've been more than happy to give you a spare."

Felicity's own eyes became heavy lidded as she breathed in his soft, clean woodsy scent. It wafted up from his clean skin, embracing Felicity. She licked her very dry lips. She scanned the form mere inches from her own. He was huge. And Felicity was fascinated by the massive strength that was encased in his clothes. She didn't know what to do with him there so close and, for once in her life, she was rendered completely speechless. Oliver Queen's body so close to hers was sending her entire body into chaos.

"Ollie." Sara caught Oliver's attention, though he had to drag it away from Felicity's form by force. But it was his quick reflexes that saved his ass from hitting the ground as Sara jumped into his arms. She hugged him tight and Oliver returned the favor. He hadn't realized until that moment how much he missed her.

"Sara." He set her down and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "How's med school?"

"Great." Sara bobbled her head. "When I'm not exhausted. I can't believe this. It's been five years since we've seen each other." Sara slapped at his chest. "FaceTime doesn't count."

"Wow. It really has been. I've been so busy, I've lost count," Oliver told her, hoping she'd believe him. He could vividly place the last day he saw her. It was burned down to the marrow of his bones. He had left a large piece of his life behind when he left for Toronto. Besides his family and his best friend, Tommy, the only person from home he had ever kept in touch with was Sara. Probably because she was the one he asked to come with him when he left. And she had, until that summer. It hadn't lasted and Oliver knew he shouldn't have been surprised but he was. He should have never expected that Sara, who grew up in the Lance household, would go more than one year without going to college. But it was her leaving that had sent him spiraling. It was that depression that had resulted in the incident with Adrian Chase.

"Ollie," Sara tugged at his shirt and pulled out from under his arm, bringing his attention back to the present. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Felicity Smoak." Sara smiled at them both. "Felicity, this is Ollie. Or Oliver Queen, first baseman of the Rockets, as most people prefer to call him."

Oliver extended his hand to Felicity. She seemed tentative as she placed her smaller one in his. "It's nice to finally meet you, Felicity."

"Mr. –"  
"Oliver," he cut her off. "Mr. Queen is my father."

"Mr. Queen, could you follow me, please?" one of the PR representatives asked as he approached the group.

Oliver rolled his eyes dramatically. He had no choice but to let her hand go, but she laughed. The sound of her laughter tugged at his heart. It was warm and rich and honest. Oliver couldn't remember meeting a woman since his paycheck grew into the millions that he could use the word honest. But with Felicity he could.

"You better go," Felicity told him, indicating the impatient PR staffer.

"Sir, they are opening the gates. We have to hurry."

"Right." Oliver clasped Sara on the shoulder. "See you later?"

"You bet. I plan on dragging Felicity through every autograph line."  
Oliver nodded and winked at Felicity. "Have fun."

OQFSOQFSOQFS

Fun didn't cover how Felicity felt. Sure it was one part of it, on a level that was unparalleled because the whole thing seemed surreal. But she was also exhausted and there was still an hour left.

Sara tugged Felicity toward the long table. "We still have more autographs. Ollie's line is thinning out."

If about a hundred people could be called thinning out then Sara was right. It was the line that would take them past the major superstars of the team. Rory Regan. Rene Ramirez. Roy Harper. Curtis Holt. John Diggle. And Oliver Queen.

"Hey. How's it going?"

Felicity glanced up and found Billy Malone, an outfielder for the Rockets smiling down at her. His line must have finished. The program said that the players would eventually roam around with the fans. "Good, I guess." Felicity glanced around. "Do you usually hang around autograph lines for your own teammates?"

Billy laughed. "No. I saw you over here and wanted to talk to you. We didn't get much time to do that when I had a line."

Felicity glanced over at Sara who was glaring at the newcomer with her arms crossed over her chest. _What had Sara so upset?_ It seemed the guy was just trying to be nice.

"So, baseball fan?" Billy asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he kept up with them as the line moved. "Or was this your first game?"

"First one." Felicity indicated her very annoyed friend. "Sara loves baseball. She's always trying to get me to watch."

"What did you think of your first game, then?"

Felicity shrugged. "I'm not a huge sports fan, but it seemed pretty fun." Outside of her most embarrassing moments. "It was longer than I thought it would be."

Billy nodded down at her jersey. "If you're not a sports fan, why did you choose Queen?"

"I'm friends with him," Sara spoke up before Felicity could. "He gave us the tickets."

The line shifted forward some more and Billy continued to follow them. Felicity wasn't sure why. She wasn't exactly the best conversationalist when it came to baseball when there were so many more people at the event who would be gushing over him. And, frankly, Sara was almost being quite hostile.

Felicity glanced around their new position and noticed there was now an opening toward the table in which they were heading. John Diggle and Oliver were clearly visible. The latter's eyes drilled through the crowd in their direction and landed directly on Malone. Felicity studied Oliver's enigmatic expression as it passed between her and the ballplayer at her side.

"Someone's not happy," Sara whispered in Felicity's ear.

"I didn't do anything. And I barely know the man. Either one."

Billy seemed unmindful of the death stare. He continued to smile down at Felicity. "What are you doing after all of this?"

Before Felicity could answer, there was a rustling of the crowd around them. People were suddenly excited by something behind her. Felicity didn't have to wait long for the answer as to why. A warm presence loomed behind her. Anger radiated off the massive muscular form. And she had a definite answer as to who stood there when Malone backed up a step.

"Queen."

"What do you want, Malone?" Oliver Queen's voice came out deep and growly. A sound that would inspire fear in whomever it was aimed at. It even made Felicity tremble. Not in fear. It had a whole other effect on her traitorous body.

"I was just talking to a fan," Malone defended standing up to the angry man. Billy waved over at Felicity who still stood there separating the two annoyed men. "In case you didn't get the memo, this is Fan Fest. I'm a ball player. We're supposed to mingle with fans."

"So, mingle," Oliver drew out slowly.

John Diggle appeared and walked over to Malone. He whispered something in the man's ear. Billy's eyes grew wide for a moment and he swallowed hard. Finally, he bobbed his head slightly in an imitation of a nod. "It was nice meeting you."

"You, too," Felicity called after him as he walked away. Glancing around her, Felicity noticed everyone staring. She hated being the center of attention. A deep seated anger swept over her at the audacity of the man behind her. With a sharp turn, Felicity rounded on Oliver. She jammed a finger directly into his toned chest. "Who do you think you are coming over here and doing that? What right did you have?" Felicity glared up at the ballplayer with her fiercest expression. One that kept many of her co-workers far away from her office when she was in this kind of mood. "And in case you are searching for an answer, you don't have any right."

Felicity turned on her heel and began to walk away from the whole scene. She had enough. A few autographs weren't worth all of this. If Sara still wanted to get them, fine. Felicity wouldn't stop her. She'd just wait out by the car or something.

She had gotten to the tunnel when a hand landed on her arm and jerked her around. The strength of the hold was so strong that it was bound to leave a bruise and Felicity groaned in pain.

"Sorry," Oliver apologized. "I didn't mean to manhandle you."

"Well, you did." Felicity rubbed at her aching arm.

Hurt tinged the depths of his eyes and he looked like he wanted to do something to ease her pain but didn't know where to start. "Felicity."

There were so many emotions drifting in the depths of his blue eyes. Not one remained for long but she could feel each one because it was so powerfully conveyed. Felicity could feel his hurt, his sympathy, his jealousy and his anger. From a man she'd barely spoken to, Felicity could read him so easily and it spooked her. _Why him?_

Felicity had dated Cooper for two years and she didn't have this much of a connection with him. He had never made her feel as much as he did without a word even being spoken between them. Oliver did. This stranger who had no association to her other than a mutual friend. He made her _feel_.

Oliver stepped closer and she let him without backing down. He towered over her but their eyes never broke contact. Felicity was almost afraid to see what would happen next if she did.

"I'm sorry," he whispered down to her.

If his growly voice made her girly parts ache, this softer version made her want to know more about him. To care for him. Which was silly. She knew nothing about this man other than his name, that he dated Sara, and her sister, and his baseball stats. Yet, in that moment, Felicity felt the only thing holding her back was her.

"You were right back there," he admitted. "I didn't have any right to act like that."  
Felicity saw his eyes finish that statement. _But I'd like to_. Question was, was she willing to take a step toward a new relationship when her last one ended so painfully? Cooper's suicide had destroyed her. It was because of that she was even here in Starling City.

"You didn't." _That's not what she wanted to say._ "We barely know each other."

"Have dinner with me then." He waved around him. "When all this is over, have dinner with me."

"I already ate." _Really, brain?_

"Tomorrow then."

Felicity cocked her head. "Are you asking me on a date? Like a date _date_?"

Oliver grinned down at her. "Would you say yes if I did?"

"Maybe."

"Then, yes. I'm asking you out on a date Felicity Smoak."

Felicity considered his offer. _Could she really handle going out on an actual date with the man in front of her? What if the paparazzi got wind of it? Could she handle being labeled? What was it Sara called them? Jersey chasers._ There were so many reasons she should say no. And only one reason she should say yes. The man fascinated her. "Yes."

"Yes?" He seemed confused for a moment. But he recovered quickly and a genuine smile crept across his face. One not there because he was trying to charm her into acceptance.

Felicity nodded. "Yes, I'll go out with you."

"You won't regret it."  
Suddenly, Felicity found herself surrounded by his muscular arms. She was pulled up on her toes and she wrapped her arms around his neck for a lack of any other place to put them. They stood there, their gazes locked on one another. Then she noticed his lips soften and his head dip down towards hers.

Oliver Queen's lips were plump and warm. The beard that surrounded them softer than she expected. The kiss was brief. A small meeting of their mouths, but it was as impactful as a slap to the head. It took her a moment to even realize he had pulled back. Opening her eyes, ones she didn't even realize she closed, she saw his own shining down at her.

"I have to get back."

His words seemed regretful and Felicity understood the feeling. She didn't want the moment to end any more than he did. "I guess I better go find Sara."  
Oliver let her slide down his body and entwined their fingers. He pulled her along with him as they returned to the field. The entire crowd clapped the moment they saw them together and Felicity buried her face against his arm. Oliver only laughed. By the time Felicity looked up, she realized not everyone was happy for her. There were quite a few jealous, angry glares sent in her direction. She tried to not let it bother her, especially as Oliver took notice and squeezed her hand tighter in reassurance.

When they reached Sara, Oliver handed her off to her friend and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "I'll see you soon."

And she did. Oliver barely left her side the rest of the night.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

Felicity was sitting on her couch watching the news when Tommy Merlyn plopped down on her couch between her and Laurel. Sara threw a bunch of popcorn in his direction when he stole the remote and turned it to a sports station.

"Hey. I'm trying to help," Tommy told them, nodding toward the television. "Oliver texted me to tune in."

Oliver was at an away game. One right before playoffs. Felicity hadn't told her boyfriend that she had Tommy secretly get her tickets to every one of the games. She wanted to surprise him. So far all she had attended was home games whenever her work schedule allowed. Considering she worked at Queen Consolidated, his family's company, work tended to let her get away a lot more than a normal employee.

"There he is," Sara waved at the TV.

Oliver sat there with John Diggle behind a sports desk with a newscaster. Pulling, a green blanket around her, Felicity studied the man who had come to mean so much to her in such a short time.

"So, playoffs," the newscaster started. "Are the two of you ready?"

Felicity faded out on all the baseball details, instead just enjoying a moment to watch Oliver. She had been at a conference the last few days and their schedules hadn't allowed them to do much more than speak for a couple of minutes at a time. She missed him.

"Oliver, I need to ask," the reporter spoke up in a conspiratorial manner, "who's the woman we've been seeing lately? Is she one of your new Canaries?"

"No," Oliver was quick to deny. "She's definitely not a Canary."

"He calls her Overwatch," Diggle leaned in and teased.

"Why Overwatch?" the reporter asked.

"Oracle was taken," Oliver teased. "No, really. She watches over me. Every game she can. Sitting right there next to first base where I can find her in an instant. Felicity is my support system. Whenever a game gets rough, I can look out in the crowd and find her in an instant and suddenly I know I can accomplish anything."

"Aww." Sara nudged Felicity from where she now rested on the edge of the couch. "Sappy Ollie. I love it."

"So things with you and Overwatch are serious?"

"As serious as Digg and Lyla are."

Everyone in the room heads swiveled in Felicity's direction. "What?"

"Spill," Sara demanded.

"There's nothing to spill."

"I wasn't talking to you," Sara told her, her eyes drifting over Felicity's shoulder.

Tommy held up his hands in defense. "I might have gone with a certain person to help him pick out a ring for someone in this room, but you didn't hear that from me."  
"Tommy," Laurel scolded her boyfriend. "Why did you have to tell her? Now it won't be a surprise."

"I didn't say when," he defended as he grabbed the remote and switched the television back to the previous channel.

"If he bought a ring, it's going to be soon," Sara told Felicity. She jumped off the couch. "Oh my God! I bet he is going to propose during the playoffs. Which is why he gave Tommy those tickets."  
"What?" Felicity didn't know who to look at, Tommy or Sara. "I asked you to buy those tickets for me."

"Yeah. I owe you some money," Tommy told her. "Like all of it."

"Oliver gave you the tickets?"

Tommy looked like he didn't want to answer, but Laurel's eyes narrowed on him. "Yes. He gave me the tickets. You weren't supposed to know."

"Just like she wasn't supposed to know about the ring?" Laurel asked shaking her head. "Never tell this man anything."

The phone rang and Sara ran to answer it. A smile spread over her face when she found out who was on the other end and Felicity knew it had to be Oliver. He had to have just walked off stage. Sara handed her the phone and waved at the other two. "It's getting late. Why don't we head home?"

"Yeah," Laurel agreed and rose. She kicked Tommy in the leg as he settled back onto the couch. "Tommy, you drove. Let's go."

"But we were going to watch a movie…" Tommy glanced over at the group. "You know, I think an early night is just the ticket." Tommy grabbed for the phone that was pressed to Felicity's chest. "Hey, buddy. We saw the show. And I didn't tell them anything, no matter what you may hear."

Felicity laughed and took the phone back from her friend. "Get out."

The trio filled out and Felicity finally raised the phone to her ear. "Hi."

"Hi. You alone now?"  
"I think so," Felicity said with a laugh. "Though I can't guarantee they're not listening at my door."

"You saw the show?"

"Um-hm. You gave me a nickname." Felicity went back over to her couch and muted the television before wrapping the green blanket Oliver gave her last month around her.

"I thought it was time." There was a pause. "About what Tommy said…"

"About the ring or the tickets?"  
Oliver groaned over the other end of the phone. "Tommy talks too much."

"Sometimes the same could be said for me," Felicity said with a laugh.

"But I love it when you talk. Especially, when you and I happen to be in the same place and I just given you the biggest…"

"Oliver," Felicity said with a squeak.

"Okay, I'll stop. I love teasing you though."

"I miss you," Felicity admitted. "I wish I was with you now."

"Well, it just so happens that I am heading toward the airport with Digg in a couple of minutes. Lyla arranged a private jet. I think she wants him home as quickly as we want to get there."

"So, when are you getting back?"

"Probably around one am. Too late to come over when you have to work tomorrow."

"I hear that you might have pull with the big boss," Felicity teased. "You know in case I needed to go in late."

"Hm. Now you're talking. I might just happen to have that number." There was a pause. "Speak of the devil, my parents are calling now."

"They probably saw you on TV and wanted to tell you about it."

"I plan on telling them, that you might need the next week off."

Felicity sat up straighter on the couch. "Why? I can't take that kind of time off. They've already been generous enough to let me have off during the playoffs. You can't ask them that. Promise me you won't."

"I won't, if you promise me that you'll stay at my penthouse while I have the next week off."

Felicity glanced around her apartment. There wasn't anything critical she'd need other than her clothes. "Fine. I'll stay with you."

"Good. Be ready when I get in. I'm carting you off tonight."

"Not tonight, Oliver. I don't have time to get everything ready."

"Okay. Tonight I'll stay over there and tomorrow, no excuses, you're at my place for the next week."

"Deal." Felicity couldn't keep the smile from her face if she tried.

"One last thing before I go and call my parents."

"What's that?"

"Marry me? I planned to ask via Jumbo Tron at the end of playoffs, but you already know about the ring. So, say yes. Marry me."

Felicity glanced over at the poster on her wall. A replica of the one she had first seen at the Rockets stadium months ago. "Yes. I'll marry you."

"I wish I was there to see your face right now."

"You are. Right on my wall." Felicity rose from the couch, dragging the blanket behind her as she walked. She reached out to the poster and stroked Oliver's cheek.

"Good. Then at least I know you know who you said yes to."

"I will always know." Felicity stared up at the blue eyes she had fallen in love with.

"You do know me better than anyone. I love you."

Felicity touched Oliver's lips. Not the real ones that always knew what to say to make her heart flip over in her chest, but a replica. Soon, she'd be able to kiss the actual man. "I love you. Be safe getting home."

"I will if you're asking."

"Then I'm asking."

"See you soon, honey."

Felicity hung up the phone and pressed her forehead to his. "I can't believe that we've come so far."

It was amazing to think that it was only that spring when Felicity had almost fought Sara about going to a baseball game that she had no interest in attending. Felicity owed Sara so much for convincing her to go and to not let her change her shirt when she got there.


End file.
